by Adam Silvera
I keep my dagger ready as I enter the suite. It’s eight times the size of the biggest bedroom I’ve had throughout my history of haven homes, which was the archive room of the Amy Silverstreak Library in Queens. The walk-in closet is empty. The bed is made, but sticking out from underneath is a handkerchief stained with blood. This had to have been Luna’s quarters—living large and dying slowly as she tried to master immortality. I shudder thinking about Luna forcing Eva to heal her of her wounds and even going so far to try and get her sickness improved, even though Eva can’t even heal a common cold. But if anyone is going to figure out how to use the blood of a healer to save herself, it’s the alchemist who engineered potions combining multiple creature essences.
I exit the suite and continue down the hall when I see lightning flash outside the window. I was sure to check the weather this morning, and yesterday morning, since seeing that phoenix two nights ago, and there was no forecast for storms. There have been no sightings since then but those of us on the bridge that night weren’t the only ones to see them flying into the city. Multiple clips surfaced online, but no one knows where the rider settled. I was able to identify the phoenix and do a little research. The phoenix is a light howler and in a fight can be as fast as its personal lightning strikes.
Thunder roars and the second lightning flash reveals the phoenix and its rider.
Danger buzzes through my body the closer they get.
The rider is wearing a mask with a metallic golden beak and confirms my suspicion—she’s a Halo Knight, protector of phoenixes. The light howler hovers over the balcony as the rider hugs a crossbow to her chest, somersaults on top of the telescope, and fires an arrow at me. I spin out of harm’s way with a one-handed cartwheel. The arrow shatters the door and glass rains behind me.
Two can play this game.
I’m quick with a fire-arrow and blast the crossbow out of her grip. She flips off the telescope and lands in a defensive stance. She’s wearing the customary leather jacket with yellow feathered sleeves and finger-cut gloves. “You have no right possessing that sacred fire,” the Halo Knight says with fury and heartbreak in her voice as if I killed a phoenix right in front of her.
“I inherited my powers—”
Danger.
A dagger drops out of the Halo Knight’s feathered sleeve and she hurls it at me. I shift in time for the dagger to sail past my head. The Halo tackles me back inside the penthouse and pins my shoulders with her knees. She fidgets with a small pocket in her black leather belt and I horizontally levitate into the air, grab on to her, and spin rapidly until she must be dizzy before slamming her down on the floor.
I punch the golden beak, knocking the mask fully off her face.
The Halo Knight has dark eye shadow over her intense glare, a long nose that rounds out like a button, sun-kissed cheeks that are flushed from the fight, full lips that are cracked like she’s been biting them, and dark hair that’s been braided into a crown that’s coming undone.
Then her foot connects into my back and I roll off of her. We pick ourselves up and charge, locked in a dance of physical combat. She shoulder rolls across the dining table and hurls a chair my way. I dodge and she closes in on me quickly. I go for a crescent kick but she sneaks under my leg with an uppercut that I block. I use my power to flip over her, but she beautifully times her sweep kick to my landing and knocks me onto my back.
Halo Knights are self-appointed guardians trained by those who came before them to protect phoenixes against all human dangers—traffickers, hunters, alchemists. Seeing as all my enemies have been people, I’ve never had to fight a Halo Knight before. I wonder if all their skills are as otherworldly as this one.
“What do you want from me?” I ask from the floor.
“Your blood, Spell Walker,” she says.
“That line runs around the block,” I say. My dark yellow wings carry me off the floor and I charge a fire-orb while hovering over the Halo Knight.
She runs away from me and whistles at her phoenix. “STRIKE!”
The light howler sways on its black talons as a ray of lightning spits out of its throat. I glide out of the way before the lightning strike can blow a hole through my body, but as it blasts apart the fireplace, the aftershock throws me across the room and I slam against the painting of the woman and the hydra. Colors dance across my vision as the Halo Knight crouches over me and stabs my arm with a needle.
“No more fire out of you,” the Halo Knight says as she waves a tiny dart in my face. “No-Fly Tranquilizer. The same used to sedate phoenixes. You have roughly three minutes before you’re unconscious.”
I’ll be impressed if I can make it three minutes. I want to punch her but I can’t get my mind to connect with my fist.
“My parents were slaughtered at the Museum of Natural Creatures protecting a newborn century phoenix,” the Halo Knight says.
The night Atlas was killed. “That wasn’t me. The Halo Knights were dead by the time I arrived with the other Spell Walkers. We saved the century phoenix.”
“Where is she?”
“Dead now. You have the Blood Casters to blame for that.”
The elevator dings. The silver plate indicates that someone is coming from the sixtieth floor.
The Halo stands. “Is that them?” she asks.
“I don’t know, I’m not psychic—well, long story.” I’m beginning to feel delirious. “It could be Blood Casters or security since your pet blew apart a wall.”
“Roxana isn’t my pet.”
I’m slipping into sleep, I can’t get into the politics of her phoenix right now. “Get me out of here. When I wake up I will tell you everything about my powers and connect you with Emil Rey, who would’ve been there when your parents were murdered.”
“Why would I trust you?”
“I want the Blood Casters dead too . . .”
The Halo Knight looks back and forth between the elevator and Roxana before she drags me by my legs to the balcony. The phoenix sinks onto its belly as the Halo rests me onto Roxana’s feathered head that smells like rainwater. Spellwork rings through the penthouse, quickly drowned out by the heavy flapping of wings and thunder and rain as we fly away from danger. Then nothing as I fall asleep above the city.
Twenty-Three
Silver and Sapphire
BRIGHTON
I’m so hot that I’m pulled out of a dream where Prudencia telekinetically carries me into the sky and kisses me with the moon behind her.
Prudencia’s head is nestled against my left shoulder as my scaly arm is burning up like it’s trapped inside a fireplace. The heat spreads across my body, and as much as I don’t want to let her go, I slide out from under Prudencia. I step over the used condom and put on my boxers so I can get some ice-cold water to go with the medicine I need badly to cool down my temperature. I fall to my knees and I don’t realize I’m screaming until Prudencia snaps out of bed in nothing but the bra and underwear she put back on after we had sex.
“Brighton, what’s wrong?” Prudencia asks and her touch burns me even more.
I flinch. “It’s hot, I’m so hot—AHHH!”
There must be some inferno around my heart. The poison is eating me alive.
Emil runs into the room with groggy eyes.
I hold my shaking arm and it hurts to breathe so much that I almost don’t want to. “Emil, this is it, bro; I’m dying.” I scream again as I punch down on the floor with my left fist to try and fight through the pain. It’s a losing battle. I grind my teeth so hard they might crack and go down my throat and choke me to death before this poison can finish its dirty work.
“You’re going to be okay,” Prudencia lies with tears flowing down her cheeks.
Wesley, Ruth, and Iris are gathered outside the doorway as Esther cries down the hall.
Emil hugs me. “I love you, Bright.”
The heat spikes to a whole new level and I shove Emil because I sense something explosive within me. My scaly arm glows like burni
ng coal and I wish someone would press a wand to my head and put me out of misery. My vision becomes foggy like heavy clouds of smoke and clears moments later and I find something impossible.
My arm is blazing in silver and sapphire flames.
For a tenth of a second I trick myself into thinking the Reaper’s Blood is working, until the fire incinerates my flesh and bones. Blood pools around my knees. I must look like someone in a grotesque horror film. The flames erupt all around me until I’m completely consumed. I’ll be nothing but ashes in moments. My shoulder tenses as a fist punches its way out, stretching until the rest of my arm follows.
The silver and sapphire flames disperse from everywhere except my good-as-new arm.
“It worked! The Reaper’s Blood worked!”
I break out into a laugh, sweat and tears still on my face, and as the fire from the century phoenix vanishes within my reformed hand, I don’t see anyone else laughing or celebrating. They’re all stunned, but it’s the horror in Prudencia’s eyes and the dread in Emil’s that really sets me back.
“What?” I ask.
I investigate my body to see if I’m missing something bad. But I only see something amazing.
“How do you feel?” Emil asks.
My temperature is cooling down. My arm is sore and stiff but nothing that flexing my fingers and some stretching can’t fix. “Happy,” I say with a smile that feels as big as the one I had when Prudencia and I stopped to catch our breath during sex—a smile that has felt buried in my face for years and was finally freed. I have wanted powers since I was a kid; I never gave up on that dream like Emil did. The Reaper’s Blood seemed like it was going to take my life when instead it improved it infinitely. “I’m starting over with powers. It’s everything I’ve wanted—almost everything. Only two out of the three essences have manifested so far, but I don’t want to be greedy. This is a great start!”
I’m so excited I actually jump up and down, pumping my new fist that’s nearly identical to the one I’ve always had minus the nicks I’ve gained the past month from all the fights against specters and acolytes. I notice a thin white scar from where the fire ate away at my arm and trace it. Hydra essence killed Dad but it saved me.
I’m strong enough to save the world with these new powers.
“I want to start training,” I say, moving for the door.
“You should probably put more clothes on first,” Wesley says.
I’m still in my boxers. I don’t care. They all just witnessed a miracle.
“Settle down,” Prudencia says. “It’s three in the morning and you were literally just on fire.”
“But it stopped hurting. Emil, was it that bad for you?”
Emil shakes his head. “No. My fire never hurt me like that. Pru is right; let’s take this slow. Century phoenixes are different than gray suns. I heard how war-hungry Gravesend’s cries were; we don’t know how that’s going to play out for you.”
Great, now they’re going to blame all my instincts on some breed temperaments. I’m eager because if there’s a chance my mother is still alive we’re going to have to move fast to save her.
I sway on the spot and this dizziness feels different than all the other times since the Reaper’s Blood has impacted my system. Then I remember what happened to Emil and Maribelle shortly after using their phoenix fire for the first time. “I’m going to faint,” I say. I think about quickly reaching the bed so I can have a safe landing and I suddenly lunge forward so fast that I roll across the mattress and crash into the desk by the window. Prudencia massages the back of my head as she helps me onto the bed. “Did I just swift-run? I wasn’t even trying to do that!”
The powers are all manifesting. It’s happening; it’s all really happening. I rest my head on the pillow because I’m fading, but I’m already so excited to wake up knowing what’s waiting for me when I do. That enthusiasm clearly isn’t shared by anyone else in the room.
It’s almost as if everyone would rather see me dead than alive with power.
Twenty-Four
Infinity Savior
BRIGHTON
It wasn’t a dream.
I sit up in bed and the thin white scar above my bicep proves every nightmarish thing I went through in the middle of the night to get my powers. I don’t know what was the final push to access them—the Cloaked Phantom? Near death? Sex with someone I wanted to live for? Time?—but I’m not questioning this victory. I take a selfie on my phone to document this historic morning. I don’t upload it yet. Timing is really important when it comes to social media, and my mind is already spinning with possibilities on the Brighton of New York feature that will show the world my humble beginnings on my journey to becoming the strongest specter ever.
Prudencia must’ve woken up already, so I get dressed to find her.
The glorious smell of breakfast doesn’t make me nauseous today, and Wesley is in the kitchen spreading peanut butter and jelly on some bagels beside a steaming plate of hash browns, a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, and bowls of sliced cantaloupe and kiwis.
“Morning, Super Specter,” Wesley says before turning his attention to the empty baby bottle that’s boiling in the pot. “Good sleep?”
“Does it count as sleep if I passed out because my body overheated from phoenix fire?”
“Whatever it was, you did more of it than the rest of us,” Wesley says. “Esther wouldn’t stop crying. I had to take her for a run.”
“Perfect segue. Judging by Dione’s powers I know swift-speed works differently for specters and celestials, but you mind giving me some pointers later? I need to get all my abilities in shape.”
Wesley finishes making a plate of food and grabs one of the sterilized bottles. “I’m only saying yes so you can take Esther on a nighttime run the next time you wake her up. Emil’s down at the beach if you want to bring him some breakfast. You should definitely eat everything you can. You’ll need the energy for all the running around.”
He goes back toward his room and someone shifts on the couch. Prudencia is asleep in her Every Body Is Super shirt with her hair hanging off the cushion. Why didn’t she stay in bed with me? Did she stay up talking about me with Emil? I won’t bother her now, but it’s one of many questions I got to ask her. She never explained what brought her to my room last night. I thought we might talk about it after having sex, but she put some clothes back on, wrapped my arm around her, and went to sleep.
I prepare breakfast plates and carry them down to the beach on a tray. Any other day I would’ve complained about how hot the sun is but this is nothing compared to being encased in phoenix fire hours ago. Emil is standing in the water, the waves crashing against his already-tight jeans, which are going to be impossible to take off when drenched. I call his name three times before he finally hears me over the wind.
He’s dripping as he walks over. “How are you feeling?”
I set down the tray and hand him his plate with the bagel and extra fruit.
“I feel ready to put this new lease on life to good use. The sooner I can figure out these powers, the sooner we can make a move against the Blood Casters.” I believe in the stars now more than ever and I pray to every last one that Ma hasn’t been killed because of me. Especially not after how horrible I was to her on our last phone call. “Maybe we can save our mother.”
Emil stops reaching for his breakfast as if he’s lost his appetite thinking about Ma’s fate. Not having an answer is unsettling, and I keep assuming the worst but I can’t operate that way until we know for sure. I’m not giving in to the grief because it’ll make me weak and powerless like when Dad died. Not when I stand to be stronger and more powerful than ever—than anyone.
“I want to save her too, but we can’t rush into this. My powers aren’t working and you’re new to yours. If something has happened to Ma, then—”
“Then we make sure they don’t get away with it,” I interrupt.
Emil lets out a deep sigh. “By locking them up
in the Bounds, right? You need my help with the phoenix powers, but I’m not doing that if you’re trying to become some assassin.”
There’s so much wrong with that, but I bite my tongue. Emil seems to be forgetting that learning new skills and absorbing information has always been easier for me. I was also working the camera during all his training lessons with Atlas on how to pull the fire out of him. I can do this myself if I have to, but I don’t want to.
“The dream has always been to save the world with you—the Reys of Light! The Blood Casters won’t stand a chance against us. We’ll be . . . What was it I called you when I was trying to figure out your hero name? Uh . . . Unkillable Kings! Though we should rework that to Infinity Kings for branding. You’re the Infinity Son and I’ll be . . .” Given the nature of the potion and my deathly powers there’s one name that feels right—Infinity Reaper. But between not having the ghost powers and Emil not wanting me to kill, I abandon the name. “I’m the Infinity Savior.”
We fist-bump and whistle, but it’s so halfhearted on his end that it’s getting harder to keep a lid on my frustration.
“I know my extra shot at life isn’t as flashy as you being reborn in phoenix fire, but I’m alive and I thought my brother would be excited about that.”
“Chill out, Bright, you know I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m hyped about the direction you’re moving in. I’m not getting caught up in our branding when it’s more important to figure out the binding potions.” He’s studying my face like he’s taking me in for the first time ever. “If we can miraculously brew the potion, I’m scared you won’t drink one with me. I’m scared of who you’ll become.”
